


it started as a hello

by lanyrainicorn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8508397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyrainicorn/pseuds/lanyrainicorn
Summary: Eighteen years of loneliness and disappointment has left Keith a bitter and resentful young adult. Off to college and out of the foster care system, he moves far away from the orphanage he called home for so long, still alone but happy to finally be free. His life is better now, and though he's not unhappy, he still feels like something is missing.Especially when he looks at the outgoing, dark skinned guy in his astronomy class and feels an eerie sense of familiarity and warmth.





	

_(It started as a hello.)_

 

Keith was a quiet, lonely child, never staying in one place for long, an unwilling member of the American foster care system. His life had never had any permanency, his standoffish attitude and rebellious nature always the reason he was shuffled to home after unsuccessful home. They always said Keith was hard to deal with, but what Keith heard was, _“We don’t want to deal with him.”_ He knew what they really meant when they said those words, and it stuck with him. To him it meant he was a burden, something to be cast aside others realized his uselessness.

There were few places in Keith’s world where he felt _at home,_ despite not actually having one, and one of those places was, surprisingly, the children’s home he’d come to as an infant. At least there he could feel comfortable, since it was the only place in his life he spent consistent amounts of time. He knew people there, knew there were others like him, and it gave him a strange sense of comfort.

If there were few places Keith felt secure, then there were even fewer _people_ he could count on. Allura was one of the lucky ones. She was actually his case worker, but she was the closest thing to a friend that Keith had ever had in his short life. It took hard work and dedication on her part, but she was naturally caring and kind, and eventually Keith opened up to her like a book. She earned his trust, something he didn’t give away on a whim, even as an impressionable child, and she vowed to never betray it.

Though she was just out of school and not much older than some of the teenagers at the home, she was wise beyond her years and a natural at what she did. She was good with children, nurturing and motherly, so she suited the job well. She had endless patience, especially when Keith’s was exhausted, and she encouraged him to stay on track through whatever problem he was facing at any given time.

Despite years filled with heartache, disappointment, and doubt, good things eventually came Keith’s way. The first bout of stability in his life came when he was ten years old. He was called into Allura’s office late one afternoon, mind racing and silently praying that they weren’t going to send him away again. There was only so much one child could take. If he was going to live a lonely life with no one to love him, he at least wanted to do so in the presence of others who shared the same fate.

He sat down stiffly in the oversized, squeaky armchair in front of Allura’s desk, fidgeting nervously, just waiting to hear the bad news.

“Good afternoon, Keith. How are you doing today?” She asked him carefully, a bit of her native accent punctuating her words.

Keith peaked up through his eyelashes, head tilted downward. “I’m okay.”

“That’s good. Now, Keith, I’m going to get straight to the point. Coran and I have been reviewing your file and –”

“Where are you sending me now?” he interrupted with a snap. He tried to hide the tears in his voice, but his throat was tight. He scrubbed his palm roughly across his face when a single droplet slid down his chubby cheek. Keith hated crying, and though he rarely did, anger and frustration were usually the reason behind his tears.

“Oh!” Allura exclaimed, coming around her desk to hug Keith tightly to her chest. “Darling, don’t cry! We’re not sending you away.” She cradled his face gently in her palms. “Keith, we’re sending you to school.” He glanced up, searching her eyes for some kind of insincerity and finding none.

“School?” he wheezed.

“Yes, school. I’ve talked with the director, and he and I both agreed that it would be in your best interest to attend a public school. There are better resources there for you: more structured lessons, more socialization, and more opportunities for one on one time with teachers if you need extra help. Everyone thinks you’d benefit greatly. What do you think?”

Keith had always been homeschooled, never settled in one place long enough to be enrolled in a public school. He’d heard other kids at the home talk about it, leaving in the mornings and returning in the afternoons, whereas Keith was stuck in one place all day, reading or watching others place, or just sitting alone, thinking.

He’d heard them talk about the teachers, recess and lunchtime, classes and _friends._ All of this was a foreign concept to Keith, _friends_ most of all. Yes, he was more at home all alone at an orphanage than any other place he’d ever lived, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to experience something new, to go to classes and do art projects, to have homework and eat lunch in a cafeteria with other students… to make friends with other students.

“So what do you say, dear?” Allura smiled sweetly down at him, hands clasped together and wringing almost as if she were nervous. She knew Keith had a hard time befriending others, a hard time getting along with others in general. But she also knew that this would be great for him, a chance to turn a difficult situation into a positive one and an opportunity to break out of his lonely and well-built cocoon. This was a chance – possibly the only chance – to give a reserved and resentful child something to look forward to, something that might alter his outlook on life altogether.

“Sure,” Keith said, a genuinely rare grin plastered on his face. “Let’s give it a shot.”

 

 

Allura and the home’s director, Coran, took care of the paperwork immediately and met with his new teachers to explain his situation. They bought his school supplies, including a simple red backpack with a matching lunchbox. There was a bus stop not far from the children’s home, and when his first day came, Keith stood there holding Allura’s hand, nervous butterflies fluttering in his tummy.

“You’ll be fine, darling,” she assured him. “Just listen to your teachers and do your work.” The bus rumbled into sight, pulling up to the stop with a squeal of the breaks. Keith glanced up at Allura, eyes big and faintly misty, looking for the guidance he so greatly craved. She just smiled that gentle smile of hers, the one that said a thousand words, everything Keith needed to hear, and patted his head, ushering him onto the bus.

The ride to school wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d taken buses before with his foster families. When they pulled up to the school, however, Keith’s nervousness resurfaced. The school was large, much larger than he’d expected, buildings connected by covered walkways, picnic tables situated on a grassy clearing, and people – students, teachers, aides, he assumed – everywhere. It was a little scary and a lot overwhelming, but Keith sucked in a deep breath, swearing that he’d be brave.

It was September, which meant the school year had barely started, but it had been in session long enough for everyone to have fallen into a routine. Keith had been assigned an aide to show him around and to help him acclimate to the schedule that the other students had been following for a month. They spent most of the day doing just that – after Keith had been introduced to his teacher and homeroom class, the aide took him from building to building, from classroom to classroom, showing him just what to expect. At lunchtime they ate in the cafeteria and during recess she gave him a quick glimpse of the playground before whisking him off to introduce him to the rest of the teachers. He was only there for half a day, but it went by quickly, in a blur, and by the time Allura picked him up he was exhausted.

When he arrived back at the orphanage he was bombarded with questions from kids that had never bothered to speak to him before. _What is school like? Was it fun? What did you do?_ By the time he was finally able to crawl into bed that night he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He couldn’t remember ever having such a tiring day.

The next morning came faster than he wanted, but he actually found himself to be surprisingly excited. Maybe because he knew that today was his first _real_ day of school, and that he would actually go to class instead of being dragged around on a glorified tour. He jumped out of bed and was ready to go in record time, and this time when he stood at the bus stop he was jittering with anticipation, not nerves.

Though he’d been looking forward to it all morning, Keith found the second day of school to be a bit boring, to put it bluntly. It wasn’t much different than when he was homeschooled. He still had to sit still and quiet when the teacher’s lesson was going, and he almost fell asleep more than once. Art class was a little better, at least, and he quietly worked on sculpting a clay pot for the entire class period.

At lunch he moved through the line, piling his tray with food and plucking a milk from the cooler. He glanced around the cafeteria, which suddenly seemed a whole lot bigger than the day before. Overwhelmed by its sheer size, he wasn’t sure where to sit… it was only his second day, after all, and he hadn’t even _attempted_ to make any friends. He spotted an empty table near the back, snagging it before any else could, and ate his lunch in solitude.

The rest of the day continued on as mundanely as the first half. Recess was the second to last period of the day, and Keith felt very unsure as he stepped onto the playground. No one had sat with him at lunch, and while he was used to being alone, he couldn’t help but feel a little sad watching the other children play tag and hide-and-seek. He lingered by the door until the coach encouraged him to find a piece of equipment to play on.

There was equipment spread all across the playground – seesaws, swings of varying heights, a very elaborate jungle gym – and children covering seemingly every inch. In the distance he spotted a lone bench, and it was calling his name. He shuffled across the playground, occasionally kicking up a bit of gravel by accident as he walked, and took a seat on the bench. He silently took in what was around him, not really ready to venture out of his comfort zone quite yet.

To his right was possibly the most impressive and interesting fixture there – it was a large, blue lion, reminiscent of a sphinx, lying down on its belly with its paws tucked under its head. Its paint was chipping and it was badly weathered, like it had been there as long as the school had, but it intrigued Keith all the same. Atop it two boys were battling, each holding a stick and batting at each other while jumping around and shouting.

Keith must have dozed off at some point, perhaps warmed by the late summer sun, because the next thing he knew he was being jolted awake by flying rocks and a figure skidding to a stop right in front of the bench he’d claimed. He blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands.

When his eyes refocused, they settled on the person in front of him. There stood a boy around his age, and while he was all awkward, gangly limbs, he held himself tall (as if he wasn’t tall enough already…) and proud, fisted hands planted firmly on his hips. His skin and hair were dark, deep bronze and chocolatey brown, respectively. His eyes nearly sparkled and the smirky smile he wore just screamed a cocky self-assurance that Keith might dare call _arrogance_ , even at ten years old.

“Hello!” the tall boy blurted, leaning down into Keith’s space and shoving his hand out, making him recoil. “Whatcha doing?”

“Ah—” Keith sputtered back, caught completely off guard. “I’m just sitting here…” He stared at the boy’s outstretched hand, not realizing that his default expression was always a glare, and the boy threw his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Sorry! I just thought you looked bored! I figured I’d come and ask if you wanted to have a sword fight with me. Hunk won’t play with me anymore. He says I cheat, even though I’m not sure you even _can_ cheat at sword fighting…” he rambled on, leaving Keith wide eyed and stunned.

The boy was still going on, saying something completely unrelated to sword fighting now, when the sound of the coach’s whistle interrupted his rant. He stomped his foot indignantly and Keith glanced down, seeing for the first time that the boy’s long legs were covered in dirt, bruises, and Band-Aids.

“Aww, man! Recess is over,” he groaned, “Oh well, we’ll just have to play tomorrow!” And with that, he took off running toward the coach, where all the other children were filing into a line.

He didn’t make it too far, though, before he turned in Keith’s direction, catching his eyes and shouting.

“By the way, my name’s Lance!”

And, despite himself, Keith smiled.

 

_(This is the story of how a whirlwind of a boy named Lance burst into Keith’s life when he least expected it but needed it most._

_And it all started as a hello.)_

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! this is my first contribution to the voltron fandom and i hope you all enjoy it! i'll update the tags (and possibly rating) as the story progresses and new details are revealed! 
> 
> my [tumblr](http://lanyrainicorn.tumblr.com) !  
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/baladash_) !


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